Touching Smoke (25 page)

“He will be fine. Sit!”

I hadn’t realized how badly my hands were shaking until I touched the arm of my chair and turned it all the way around to face Isaiah. I dropped unsteadily into the seat.

“Fasten your seatbelt.”

I must have done it because he didn’t ask again. I didn’t pay much attention to anything, not the takeoff, not the pilot telling us not to get up until the seatbelt sign was turned off, not even the smiling face stewardess asking if I wanted anything to drink.

“How much has Isaiah told you about himself, Fallon?”

I never took my teary eyes off Isaiah. “Don’t talk to me.” I took his hand in mine. The torn and bloody state of his knuckles had me swallowing down a lump in my throat. “You didn’t have to do this to him.”

“Someone needs to teach you some manners, you ungrateful little bitch! I should kill you where you sit!”

I don’t know where I got the guts to look the irate woman in the eye. “You won’t kill me. You wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble just to kill me.”

Maia smirked, the gesture cutting and cold. “But we don’t need
him!”
She gestured to Isaiah. “I’d lose no sleep over it just to watch you suffer.”

Garrison put his hand up. “It’s all right, Maia. Fallon is just upset. Her anger is perfectly understandable.”

I turned away from all of them, ignoring them the best I could, unwilling to show just how terrified I was.

“He’s quite remarkable, isn’t he?” I had no idea what Garrison was talking about until I glanced up and found him watching Isaiah with a look akin to… What? Pride? Satisfaction? “He was the first, a breakthrough in modern science. There was none like him… until you.”

“Is that why you threw him away?”

Garrison blinked in surprise. “Throw him away? My dear girl, Isaiah cost me a fortune to create. Why would I throw him away?” The grin that crawled across his face terrified a chill down my spine. “Oh, no, no, he did exactly what I wanted him to do.” His green eyes pierced straight through me. “He brought me you.”

I cringed. Disgust rippled over my skin. “What do you want with me?”

He splayed his hands, palms up. “I want what any father would want for his children; I want you to be happy.”

“Then let us go!”

“Of course!” he decided at once as if I’d insulted him by thinking otherwise. “You are not prisoners! You are welcome to leave at any time. I only ask that you… hear me out first.”

I didn’t believe him. “Do you always threaten, bully and point guns at people who aren’t prisoners?”

He grinned. “Only the very special ones.”

I didn’t bother with a response. What good would it have done? He may have claimed that we weren’t prisoners, but what else were we? We certainly weren’t there of our own free wills.

A low groan claimed my attention. The hand in mine twitched. My heart leapt.

“Isaiah?” I strained as far as the seatbelt would allow me to look into his face, a face nearly completely healed of its gashes and bruises.

I didn’t know what to make of it or if I should panic or not. Right before my eyes, the wounds began to close. The bruises darkened, becoming a dark purple, then yellow and vanishing altogether. The scraps on his knuckles closed, scabbing over and finally returning to its original state. His lashes flickered and his right eye opened a slit.

 “Fallon!!” My name rushed from his fat lips, a single sound of pure panic.

My heart wrenched in my chest. My fingers tightened around his. “I’m here!”

The swelling shrunk slowly around his left eyes, making it easier to open. The blue swerved in their sockets and latched onto my face, taking me in greedily. His hands reached for me, touching the side of my face. I must have looked really bad because his teeth flashed in a snarl.

“A’righth?” he garbled around his bloody lip.

I nodded, capturing his hand and pressing it to my cheek. “Yeah, are you?”

He nodded, giving a sigh and slumping against his seat. “Was… worried…” His lip was nearly back to normal.

“I’m okay,” I assured him, watching him become good as new. Really, I should have been freaked out, but I couldn’t shake the relief. Besides, was it really the weirdest thing I’d seen so far? Hardly.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Maia interruption was enough to jolt Isaiah back to reality and our surroundings. He shot upright in his seat, only to cry out and slump back, clutching his chest.

“Don’t move,” I told him, watching the white-knuckled grip he had on his shirt front. His lips curled back over his teeth in a grimace. His entire face glistened with perspiration beneath the dried blood. “Do you want some water?”

“Where… are… we?” he rasped instead, blue eyes honed in and narrowed on Garrison, noticing for the first time the small army watching us.

“Still quite a ways before we reach our destination.” Garrison answered, looking rather pleased about something. He chuckled, shaking his head slowly. “I honestly can’t tell you how delighted I am that you two are getting along so well.”

“What do you want with us?” Isaiah demanded, trembling hand dropping away from his front to grip the armrest. The hand I still held tightened around mine.

“I suppose we can get down to business now that you’re awake. After all, we haven’t got very much time.”

“Where are you taking us?” Isaiah growled.

“You know, I’m hurt, really I am. I go through all this trouble getting us together for a family reunion, and in return I get doubt, suspicion, anger, hostility…” he sighed heavily, watching us with a sad little pout. The guy should have been an actor. “I suppose it’s my fault,” he ignored Maia’s sputter of protest. “I should have tried harder to keep us together in the first place.”

One look at Isaiah and I didn’t feel so alone in my bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”

Garrison narrowed his eyes a slit, eyeing me warily. “Your mother never told you, did she?” My teeth creaked beneath the force of my grinding. I glowered at him, wishing with all my might that I could just tear his eyes out. “No,” he continued without waiting for a reply. “I don’t suppose she would. This is as much her fault as mine, although I doubt
she
would confess to it.”

Isaiah grabbed me when my body jerked forward as if to lunge. If Garrison noticed, he didn’t react. The goons in the back however… shifted forward in their seats, sitting right on the edge, watching… waiting. Maia had her gun out, resting it on her lap like a sleek purse. Her glittering eyes dared me to move. I might not have been in direct danger, but Isaiah was, so I forced myself to calm down.

“You don’t belong in the same category as my mother,” I growled. “You have no right to even say her name.”

Garrison sighed sadly. “Such loyalty, and to the
wrong
person. She’s the one who made you like this. She came to
me,
yet I’m the villain.”

“I don’t believe you,” Isaiah put his other hand over mine, prying my nails out of his knuckles where I had unconsciously been gouging them. “My mom would
never!”

Garrison examined me a moment, seemingly waiting for something to happen, but when nothing did, slumped a little in his seat. “Your mother used to work for me. That is how she and your dad meet. Did you know?”

I didn’t. Mom never told me anything about my dad, not even how they met. But I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.

“Your dad was my… backer,” Garrison said, smile cutting. “They came to me a little after Isaiah was created, asking me to help them have a child. I warned them of the consequences, but they were adamant. To help a friend, I agreed.”

“What am I?” The words hissed through my tightly clenched teeth. “What are
we?”

As if that was the question Garrison had been waiting for all that time, he beamed. “I was hoping you would ask that!” He leapt to his feet so suddenly I jumped. His towering height nearly brushed the ceiling. “No doubt everyone has been denying you that answer, too afraid to tell you the truth.”

I kept my face carefully blank, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being right. But he didn’t seem to need it. He was off, pacing the length of the lavish plane. His goons sat back, giving him all the room he needed, but remained on high alert. Either they took their job very seriously or I was that much of a risk. I liked to think the later, that I was the one to evoke fear in them, but I doubted it.

“No!” he said unexpectedly, his face painfully serious. “I think this is better shown.” He dropped back into his seat and watched me with barely contained excitement. “You will enjoy it much more.”

Nothing that had him that happy was something I would enjoy. But he refused to say anything else.

I looked at Isaiah, hoping to gauge his reaction, but he was staring at Garrison, fierce… murderous. If the gorillas had anything to fear, it was he, not me. The most I could do was to give Garrison a few scratches. I couldn’t even imagine the things Isaiah would do if allowed.

The stewardess appeared from some hidden room at the back, smiling pleasantly as if nothing at all unusual was happening. How well did Garrison pay her to keep her mouth shut and keep that pretty smile in place?

“Can I get anyone anything?” She batted her blue eyes.

“Yes, I think it’s about time for Fallon to eat, don’t you?” The question was aimed at Isaiah. “It’s been a rough few days for you both, hasn’t it, Isaiah? Your drive to protect her is quite impressive I have to say. You’ve surpassed all my expectations.” Without taking his eyes off Isaiah, he said to the petit blonde, “Supper please.” Then, he carried on casually in a discussing-the-weather sort of tone. “Isaiah was always a fascinating subject. He has abilities even I have yet to witness.”

“Stop it!” I snarled. “Stop talking about him as if—”

“As if I created him?” I ignored the jab. “But I
did
create him and I know it’s just killing him to sit there and do nothing, not when there’s a good chance you could get harmed in the process. After all,” he smirked, “we’re over fifty thousand feet in the air and all my men are armed, including the pilot and stewardess. He won’t be able to lift a finger towards me without my men taking you out and vice versa.”

“You won’t kill us,” I said with much more confidence than I was feeling.

Bushy eyebrows slid up his forehead. “Won’t I?”

I shook my head. “You wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of tracking us down and bringing us here if you were just going to kill us.”

His lips curled back, exposing rows of straight teeth in what may have been a very proud smile. “What a clever girl you grew up to be. I always told Ashton you would be. Unfortunately, you’re wrong. Dead or alive, I can accomplish the very same thing.”

“Which is?” Isaiah asked, seemingly much more in control of himself now.

“Oh, I can’t tell you that, not yet!” Garrison chuckled. “That would ruin the surprise!”

“I won’t let you hurt her,” Isaiah said. “I’ll bring the whole plane down before I let you touch her.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Isaiah,” Garrison sounded anything but. He was practically drowning in his euphoria. “Why would I hurt her? It’s like she said; why would I go through all this trouble if I was just going to hurt you?”

“But you don’t mind in the least killing us,” Isaiah challenged.

Garrison beamed. “Only if I really have no choice, but that won’t happen, will it?”

Isaiah said nothing.

“You told us that you would explain what was happening,” I said when the two continued to just stare each other down. “You haven’t told us anything.”

He waved a long hand dismissively. “All in good time, my dear!”

I refused to be brushed aside. “What do you want with us?”

“Well, that’s part of the surprise,” Garrison said simply. “You’ll find out soon enough. But for now, you really should eat, Fallon. We wouldn’t want any… accidents, now would we?”

I swallowed hard. “How do you know about that?”

Garrison expelled a gust of exaggeration air, rolling his eyes heavenward. “My dear!” he exclaimed as if I’d somehow offended him. “I know absolutely everything about you! I created you! Every artist knows the strokes of his own brush.”

The shudder escaped me before I could stop it. “What am I?”

The seat beneath him rustled when he leaned forward, somehow elated by my question. “You, Fallon, are my key.”

I would have given anything to have five minutes alone with Isaiah. But even Fort Knox wasn’t as heavily guarded as we were. I couldn’t even shift in my chair without having no less than six guns pointed at me. I wasn’t sure how safe I felt with such trigger happy people crammed inside a sardine can, hovering
thousands
of feet from the ground, even if said sardine can was fit for the president.

“Isaiah?” I whispered — my feeble attempt at a shred of privacy. He glanced at me, expression darker than I’d ever seen it before. “What’s going on?” I asked, my tone embarrassingly pleading.

His gaze shot from me to Garrison, then back. “I don’t know.” He dropped his head and lowered his voice. “But it’ll be okay. I’ll get us out of this somehow.”